


Say Geronimo

by anyrei, mugglerock



Series: Five Dimensions Series [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angelic Grace, Castiel In Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel is Dean's Protector, Dean In Love, Dean Spent His Life in the System, Dean and Cas's Love Conquers All, Dean and Mental Health Issues, Dean is Loved, Falling Castiel, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Grace Play, Grace Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Righteous Man Dean, and they fall in love, even though he doesn't know it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyrei/pseuds/anyrei, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglerock/pseuds/mugglerock
Summary: When Dean Winchester made the leap to live his life, he didn’t just say, “Geronimo.” He screamed it at the top of his lungs. Thankfully, an angel that risked everything was there to catch him.[Timestamp for Dimension 2]





	Say Geronimo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steeleye1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye1/gifts).



> Any here: We gifted this timestamp to steeleye1. Thank you so much for all your comments and support!!! 
> 
> When we wrote D2 in the main story, there was one thought I couldn't shake. What if Dean really is crazy and he is hallucinating talking to Cas? Oh, man that would have been a very very dark timestamp now, wouldn't it? But you know us. We love angst, but we also love fluff. That's why we write fluffangst. It's a thing.
> 
> Frankie here: It’s called Flangst, any. Anyway, GODDAMNIT why didn’t you tell me that idea? I would have been all kinds of for taking this darker! DAMNIT. Anyway, yes, steeleye1 thank you so much for the love and support! 
> 
> And, as usual, in theory this could be read as a standalone, but we recommend you read, at the very least, the chapter from Five Dimensions for this story prior. You can read that particular dimension [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11225268/chapters/25102443).
> 
> AND OOOH. The third timestamp is coming! The third dimension timestamp (which was the one the majority of you were particularly interested in reading about) is a multiple chapter 140k fic. So that one we’ll post each chapter as it gets edited. WHEE! Thank you again all our awesome and lovely readers! We adore you
> 
> P.S. You can follow us on our joint tumblr for any updates, mini fics, outtakes, and other shenanigans [here](https://the-real-anyrock.tumblr.com/)!

**Say Geronimo (D2)**

 

Something happened. He could feel Dean’s distress, but at the same time, so much determination, longing, and hope. It took a moment before Castiel realized that Dean was on the run. Somehow he got free from where he was imprisoned. The worry came instantly.

 

It was the first time he felt conflicted about something. On the one hand, he wanted to finally get to Dean, but on the other hand, as long as his vessel was hidden and Dean was outside, his friend had no protection. 

 

The asylum had been warded by Hannah, so no demon or angel could get to him. But outside, in the world, Dean had no one to protect him. 

 

Castiel paced around in heaven’s garden like a caged animal. If the demons found Dean and killed him, they’d drag him straight to Hell and everything would come to an end. The first seal would then break and the apocalypse would be well on the way to starting. He couldn’t let that happen.

 

But that wasn’t his main concern, if he was honest with himself. Over the years Dean had become his friend and just the thought of losing him to Hell, what the demons would do to him – he just couldn’t let it happen.

 

He focused all of his intention on Dean, trying to reach his mind.

 

_ Dean. Are you okay? Are you outside? _

 

He hated that this way of communication wasn’t ideal. It always ended up in Dean having a headache. Granted the more they communicated, the better it got over the time. At first he suffered severe migraines after a short conversation, now their conversations appeared to just cause the young man a mild headache.

 

**_Castiel! I escaped! I’m coming to help you!_ **

 

Castiel could feel the happiness that accompanied Dean’s thoughts and, although it filled his own essence with happiness, it was tainted by the overwhelming worry he felt for his friend.

 

_ Trust no one and be careful, Dean. I’ll try to send a friend of mine to help you, if it’s possible. _

 

He wanted to ask Hannah, but she had already risked so much. He didn’t want to endanger her anymore by going behind Heaven’s back. But she was his only bridge to Earth, the only angel he trusted to do such a thing.

 

It killed him not being able to do anything. 

 

_ What is your plan? _

 

**_There’s a man I’m supposed to see in Sioux Falls. Bobby Singer. I’m hoping I find a gas station soon so I can get a map._ **

 

Castiel was confused by that information. 

 

_ Who told you that? _

 

**_I promise I’m not crazy. But another me, from another timeline, he helped me escape. He told me to go to Bobby because he could help me find Jimmy for you._ **

 

_ I know you’re not crazy. _

 

The answer came without thinking, because it was a reassurance he had used way too often in his past conversations with Dean. And even though he  _ believed  _ what Dean was telling him, he was still worried it might have been an elaborate trap by the demons. 

 

_ When you find this Bobby, test him like I taught you. If he is a demon, pray to me and run. _

 

**_I promise. I’m gonna be careful._ **

 

Castiel knew what Dean was capable of. He was strong and resourceful. But it was impossible not to worry.

 

_ I can’t wait to finally be with you. I hate that I can’t help you from here. _

 

**_Me either. I’ve never wanted anything more._ **

 

Angels shouldn't feel like this. He knew that. But Dean's words meant more to him than anything else. It filled him with happiness and made him feel stronger. Like he could do anything, just because Dean believed in him.

 

_ It will also be a nice change not to give you a headache after every conversation. _

 

**_You’re worth the pain._ **

 

Castiel pulled back from Dean’s mind before his emotions overwhelmed him. He tried to find his peace again, centering his thoughts on all of the tasks he had to do, when he could finally reach Earth.

 

But he couldn’t concentrate. All he could think of was how much he longed to see Dean and hoped he would make it to Jimmy.

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

It had taken four days and a stolen map to reach Sioux Falls, South Dakota. The uniform had come in handy, at least as far as keeping the wrong kind of attention off of him. But he wouldn’t be able to keep it for long. When the other Dean finally escaped, his face would be posted everywhere. 

 

Dean had been walking for most of it, managing to get a ride occasionally from people who didn’t appear to be concerned about picking up a hitchhiker. Or at least one who looked like a cop.

 

When he reached the town, it was midday, and found his way to a cheap motel. Thankfully, older places like this had a payphone and a phonebook. Something that wasn’t really anywhere anymore. Ripping out the page with the address for Singer Salvage Yard, Dean made his way through the town, reaching near its outskirts before finally finding the place.

 

This was potentially dangerous, considering everything Castiel had been warning him about, but he trusted his alternate self. It didn’t seem logical to steer yourself wrong. Dean saw a house on the grounds of the yard and decided that would probably be his best bet. Climbing up the stairs of the elongated patio, Dean took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

 

After a long moment, a gruff looking older man opened the door, wearing flannel and a pretty banged up baseball cap. “Yeah?”

 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, his nervousness starting to get the better of him. “Are you Robert Singer?”

 

The man looked suspicious. “Who wants to know?”

 

“My name is Dean Winchester. I was told you could help me…” he started, muttering a quick ‘Christo’ as Castiel had instructed him. At the lack of flinching, Dean started to relax.

 

_ “Who  _ told you?” The guy still looked suspicious. “You need help with a car?”

 

Dean shook his head. “This is gonna sound crazy, but there are some demons that are trying to start the apocalypse, an angel of the lord told me. I was told you know how to, uh… deal with that kind of shit?”

 

The older man looked taken aback for a moment, furrowing his brow before he stepped aside and waved him in. “Come in, boy. Start from the beginning.” 

 

Dean let out a sigh of relief and followed the older man into the foyer of his home. Suddenly, he was struck in the face with some water. He coughed and spurted as he shook his head in confusion. “Did you just throw water at me?”

 

“Holy water. Had to be sure you’re not one of those black eyed bastards.” Bobby handed him a silver spoon. “Hold this for me for a second, will ya’?”

 

Tentatively reaching out, Dean gripped the spoon and held it in his open palm. He furrowed his brow. Dean tried to think of what creatures he knew about that reacted to silver. Unfortunately, his level of knowledge stemmed from horror films, so he couldn’t come up with much. “Does this prove I’m not a werewolf?”

 

Bobby took the spoon from him with a relieved sigh before he pointed to an old and cozy looking armchair in an adjoining room filled with books. “Or shapeshifter, or a shit load of other things that go bump in the night.”

 

Taking the invitation for what it was, Dean moved to sit in the old armchair and looked around. There were several phones hooked up on the wall next to the desk. Piles and piles of different books and papers littering every available surface in the room. Random weird symbols painted in red on the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. For the first time in years, Dean felt like the less crazy one in a room. 

 

“So, werewolves  _ are  _ real?” Dean knew vampires were, and demons and angels thanks to his encounters with Castiel and his alternate self. But as far as other creatures, he felt kind of lost. Having always been shut down, medication crammed down his throat when he mentioned monsters… It was almost surreal that other people out there knew that they existed, too. 

 

Bobby handed him a glass of whiskey before he sat down in a chair across from him with a groan, holding his own glass of the amber liquid. “Yeah, sorry to shatter your world view. Almost everything is real. Except maybe unicorns. But who knows? So back to the reason why you’re here.”

 

Dean placed the glass down on the side table. He didn’t want to be rude, but considering his medication regimen in the asylum, he didn’t want to take any chances of fucking with it. A few days probably wasn’t long enough for them to get out of his system. “Yeah. So, there’s this angel… Castiel. He’s trying to stop the apocalypse from happening. He needs my help to reach his vessel, who’s being hidden from him. A guy told me you’d be able to get me the stuff I need to get off the grid and help him?”

 

“An angel.” Bobby sounded perplexed. “Damn.” He took a swig from his glass and asked, “So, your angel wants to possess someone? Like a demon?”

 

“Not quite,” he defended. “Angels can’t just  _ possess  _ people. They have to get their consent.”

 

“So this guy is okay with being possessed?” Bobby asked again, his tone skeptic.

 

Dean nodded. “Yeah… His family was killed by the demons who took him. He doesn’t want it to happen to anyone else.”

 

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Shit. I guess that’s understandable.” He stood up from his chair and went to his desk, opening a drawer. “Do you know where they’re holdin’ the guy?”

 

“In a warehouse in Pontiac, Illinois. It’s warded against angels. So, whatever help I can get… I can’t pay you, but I can offer to work it off?”

 

“Idjit. You don’t have to pay me. I’m a hunter. I help people like you. It’s what hunters do.” Bobby walked up to him and handed him an amulet, that was bound to a leather cord. “Wear this. You can’t get possessed by a demon as long as you wear it.”

 

“Hunters?” Dean asked as he slipped the necklace over his head, tucking the amulet into his shirt. It sort of looked like a pentagram, which he would have thought would be the opposite of protecting him from a demon. But what did he know?

 

“Yeah.” Bobby gave him a long look. “Figured you know about them since you found me.”

 

Dean shook his head. “I’ve, uh… Well, I kinda don’t know much. I know my parents were killed by a demon and I was locked up after I killed a vampire…”

 

“Damn, kid. You had a rough start.” Bobby scratched the back of his neck. “If you want to, I can teach you a few things. But first, we should get to your friend.”

 

He went to the door and grabbed a duffel bag. “Come on. Help me load the car. We need a few weapons.”

 

He felt a little overwhelmed in that moment. Dean’s entire life had been people telling him how crazy he was, that he was imagining things, or worse yet, making it up for attention. The only help he’d ever been offered had been in the shape of a pill, or a stint in a mental hospital. Until Castiel, he’d never felt supported and now, here this complete stranger was offering to not only help him and his angel, but wanting to teach him about a world he’d been told time and time again wasn’t  _ real. _

 

Dean nodded, biting his lip to stop its trembling. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

 

Bobby looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment before his gaze softened and he touched Dean’s shoulder. “S’okay, kid. If it makes you feel better, a lot of people started out like you. Lost their family to this shit. It doesn’t get much better, just – you’re not alone. Not anymore.”  

 

And wasn’t that the truth? For the first time in years, Dean  _ wasn’t  _ alone, and he couldn’t have been more grateful. He looked down at his uniform, turning to Bobby to ask, “Do you, maybe... have extra clothes I could borrow?”

 

Bobby shrugged and nodded. “Sure, if you don’t mind flannel?”

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

He hadn't occupied a human vessel for over two hundred years. It felt weird to be so contained again, but it changed the moment he let himself  _ feel  _ everything. The smell of the clear night air, the wind pulling at his hair, the noises of humans and vibrant life nearby. And then he looked up – meeting the greenest eyes he had ever seen. 

 

_ Dean. _

 

“Jimmy?” he asked, eyes rife with concern as he gently grasped his shoulder.

 

Castiel gave him a soft smile before he shook his head. “Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean’s eyes widened with realization and a huge grin engulfed his features. “Castiel?” He pulled him into an embrace, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “I can’t believe it!”

 

For a moment Castiel didn’t know what to do. Everything was still overwhelming and he needed to get used to the new senses. He tentatively reached out to touch Dean’s shoulder. “It’s really me. It’s good to finally see you.“

 

Before Dean could respond, the older gentleman barked a gruff, “Hate to break up your little lovefest, fellas, but those soulless bastards are gonna come back and will probably bring their friends. We should get the hell outta dodge.”

 

“Where do you want to go?” Castiel asked the older man. He squinted his eyes at him to look at his soul. Bobby Singer. The hunter Dean had told him about in his prayers.

 

“Anywhere but here, flyboy. My car’s just outside. Let’s go,” he commanded more than requested.

 

Castiel had heard of cars, but had never been in one. He wanted to offer to bring them to the location they wanted to go, but “anywhere but here” was too unspecific. His gaze kept straying towards Dean and he found himself unable to look away from him. He hadn’t anticipated his human shape would be so... he tried to come up with a word in his mind that would describe Dean’s appearance, something that mirrored the beauty of his soul, but he came up empty. Language just wasn’t sufficient enough to describe Dean.

 

Even as they followed Bobby Singer to his car, he couldn’t stop looking at his friend. Or stop walking close to him. It was like Dean had his own gravitational force.

 

Dean moved to open the door of the vehicle for him, giving him a shy smile. “Are you okay?”

 

Castiel mirrored the smile, covering Dean’s hand on the frame of the car door for a moment. “Yes. I’m just trying to get used to the fact that I can finally see you after all these years.”

 

“Could you not see me from Heaven?” he asked as he slid into the car after Castiel, sitting next to him in the backseat.

 

Castiel shook his head slowly. “Not like this. Contrary to the belief, we’re not omniscient, and we don’t constantly look down to watch humanity. I saw an image of you, how you perceive yourself, when I visited you in your dreams. It’s not comparable to reality.”

 

Dean ducked his head and appeared timid in that moment. “Am I what you expected?”

 

Castiel shook his head, he felt his face growing warmer and he had no idea why. "You exceeded my expectations."

 

That appeared to incite an interesting reaction. The young man’s cheeks reddened, to such an extent he wondered if he might be febrile. Dean smiled and looked down at the space between them. “Mine, too.”

 

Castiel's hand moved without intent, closing the gap between them to grab Dean's hand, offering the man a soft smile. The thought that Dean liked him made him happy. He noticed his priorities had shifted, that Dean's happiness, the destiny of one man, had become more important to him than the world. Back in Heaven he could still deny this fact to himself, but here on Earth it was impossible to ignore.

 

He squeezed Dean’s hand and looked down at their intertwined hands. “I’m glad.”

 

There was a groan from the front seat. “You two should get a room. You didn’t tell me we were fetching your angel boyfriend, boy.”

 

Dean became rather flustered then, stammering out a soft, “He’s not… We’re not… I mean… I just…” His cheeks grew even redder. “I don’t even think angels can  _ have  _ boyfriends.”

 

Castiel tilted his head at Dean. He had only understood half of the conversation and had no idea why Dean felt so embarrassed. "There have been occasions where an angel fell in love with a human. If that is what you're wondering."

 

If it was at all possible, Dean turned an even deeper shade of red. Robert barked out a laugh. “So, flyboy. What’s going on? Dean said something about an apocalypse?”

 

"Yes. Dean is the righteous man and demons will attempt to hunt him and drag him to Hell. They need him to break the first seal and to start the apocalypse, Robert."

 

"It's Bobby," he gruffly corrected.

 

Castiel nodded before he continued, "We will need a safe place where no one can find him, Bobby." Castiel looked at Dean and laid his hand on the man’s chest. "That reminds me. I wanted to ward you."

 

He concentrated on Dean's rib cage and burned the warding into his bones, so that he couldn't be found by other angels or demons. Dean let out a sharp hiss of pain, eyes widened in surprise.

 

Bobby looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed as he cried out, “Hey! What the hell are you doin’ to him?”

 

"An Enochian sigil. I carved it into his ribs," Castiel answered carefully. "It'll hide you from every angel and demon in creation, even me." He gave Dean an apologetic look. “Does it still hurt?” He had no intention of causing Dean any pain, but this was necessary.

 

Before he could answer, Bobby said, “You can’t just do somethin’ like that to a guy and not ask first.”

 

“It’s okay, Bobby.” Dean looked at Castiel and smiled softly. “I’m okay.”

 

Castiel mirrored the smile. “I apologize. My ‘people skills’ are ‘rusty’. I just wanted you to be safe.”

 

“Thank you, Cas.” Dean leaned forward and asked Bobby, “Should he do it to you, too?”

 

“I think I’ll pass. Survived without it so far.”

 

Dean nodded and sat back against his seat. “Okay.” He turned back to Castiel and asked, “So, how long do I have to hide?”

 

Castiel looked out of the window for a moment, wondering how he should tell Dean what his life would look like in the future. When he faced Dean again, he could see it in Dean’s eyes, that he already knew the answer to his own question, but just needed confirmation it was true.

 

“For the rest of your life, Dean. I’m sorry.” He squeezed his hand again. “All I can do is stay at your side and watch over you. But I can’t change who you are and your role in this. I can only try to protect you.”

 

Dean let out a resigned sigh and nodded mutely, turning away from Castiel to look out of the window.

 

Castiel had never felt something like this before, like his chest started to hurt just by looking at Dean. “If there is anything you need–I just wish...” Castiel shook his head.  _ Why was this so difficult? _

 

“I would give anything for you not to have this burden, Dean.” 

 

When he turned back to face Castiel, Dean offered him a sad smile. “At least  _ this  _ prison won’t have four small walls.”

 

Castiel touched Dean’s cheek for a moment. “And you won’t be alone anymore.” He rubbed his thumb over some of Dean’s freckles and took in a deep breath. “Is there anything I can do for you? To make this better?”

 

He sighed and shook his head. Dean looked away again, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Too bad I can’t go to another timeline like the other me. One where I could be normal.”

 

“Dean, you  _ are  _ normal. If there is another timeline out there, where you aren’t the righteous man, that would be abnormal.” Castiel shook his head. “You’re strong and you’re resourceful. We will make this work. I’ll find a way to give your life as much normalcy as I can.” Castiel took in a deep breath before he scratched the back of his neck. “And I could show you the world. Maybe help you forget about your worries for a few days.”

 

Dean’s eyes widened, his gaze raking over Castiel’s face as though trying to determine his seriousness. After a moment, he pursed his lips in resignation. “I… I’m scared to fly.”

 

“You wouldn’t be aware of the flight when I take you with me. It would be just a second of your time. I fly very fast.” Which wasn’t the truth. In reality he just bent the space around him to fly, but that was hard to explain to a human. He tried in the past and it never worked out.

 

“Why are you doing this? Wouldn’t it be easier to just have kept me locked up in the asylum?” Dean’s question wasn’t accusatory, just genuinely perplexed. Likely years of having never had someone do something to help him in his entire, young life.

 

"Easier maybe." Castiel shook his head. "But I wanted to show you that life has more to offer than that. And... I couldn't be with you as long as you were there. I couldn't do anything for you. It might sound selfish, but I’m glad you’re out of there.”

 

“But why? I’m nobody. I’m just a fucked up orphan who happens to be the key to starting the apocalypse. It doesn’t… It would make more sense to just get rid of me, right?”

 

Castiel was taken aback by Dean’s question. Why didn’t Dean understand how just the  _ thought  _ of something bad happening to Dean made him feel sick? “You’re... my friend.” He shook his head slowly. “More than that. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

 

Dean just stared at him for a torturous series of moments. “Don’t get me wrong, Cas. You’ve been the only friend I’ve had for a long time, and half the time I didn’t even know you were real. I’m just… I’m really struggling believing that anyone or anything could give any kind of a fuck about me. I don’t think you’re lying, I just… I don’t understand.” He sighed and held Castiel’s gaze, bottle green eyes shimmering with unshed tears and replete with confusion.

 

Castiel rubbed his thumb over the back of Dean's hand. He couldn't let him go. "Over time I hope you will start to see how important you are to me."

 

“Don’t you have something better to do than babysit my crazy ass?” He chuckled mirthlessly.

 

Castiel knew what Dean meant, but he tilted his head and gave him a confused look. “I wasn’t aware your backside is crazy.”

 

Dean laughed, a genuine and gentle sound. He smiled and shook his head. “You’re funny.”

 

Castiel returned the smile, feeling enraptured by how Dean’s eyes sparkled with his laughter. It was impossible to look away from him. “I hope I can make you laugh more often.” Castiel shook his head slightly. “It’s my privilege to be with you, Dean. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

 

“Okay, lovebirds. Where to, then? Do you have a specific place in mind, or should I take you to one of my safe houses?” Bobby asked.

 

“A safe house would be perfect. I could show you how to ward your own house, too,” Castiel offered. He started to genuinely like the rough, older man.

 

Bobby chuckled. “Sure thing, feathers. Okay, it’s about half a day’s drive, so you two should get comfortable.”

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

The drive had taken less than ten hours, Bobby had driven them straight, until they reached a cabin pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Dean had no idea where they were, what state, city, any of it. It was probably a good thing he didn’t know, seeing as he was going to have to spend the rest of his life in hiding.

 

Which meant, there went all of his hopes of trying to find his little brother. Of having a normal life. Or as normal as a man who’d been convicted to a twenty year stint in a prison posing as a mental hospital, who had now escaped,  _ could  _ have. Who was he kidding? Dean was never going to have a normal life. A demon made sure of that the night his parents were killed.

 

Who would have thought simple things like, getting your high school diploma, maybe going to college, maybe getting a minimum wage job somewhere, trying to meet someone and start a life… a family… Who would have thought he’d even desire those things? Maybe because they were so far out of his reach.

 

Dean couldn’t really be upset with the circumstances. On the bright side, he seemed to have made a new friend in Bobby Singer. And Castiel said he’d stay by his side. So at least loneliness wasn’t going to be a problem anymore. But the reality was, he was just trading one prison for another. Granted a prison with windows and open doors, but a prison nonetheless. 

 

He couldn’t risk trying to live his life, trying to find his brother, or any of the things he’d hoped to do as a free man. What kind of a dick move would it be to end up starting the friggin’ apocalypse, just because he craved the taste of real freedom?

 

When they stepped inside of the cabin, it was decorated with what looked like furniture that had been abandoned on the side of the road. He sneezed from the amount of dust that lined every surface. A raccoon scurried out of the window in the kitchen when Bobby turned on the lights, and several cockroaches ducked underneath the appliances. 

 

It was the nicest place he’d lived in years.

 

Dean turned to Bobby, trying to not feel overwhelmed at the level of kindness this man had shown a complete stranger, without any expectations. “I don’t know how to thank you, Bobby. There must be something I can do?”

 

Bobby furrowed his brow, shaking his head. “For what? For bringing you here? It’s the least I could do. I mean, if what angel boy told us is the truth, I haven’t done enough. If you need anything, boy – and I mean  _ anything,  _ don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll let you two get settled and grab some supplies for you for the next few weeks.”

 

Bobby made his way to the door before he hesitated for a moment, looking at Castiel. “You’ll ward this place and look after him?”

 

Castiel nodded towards the man before he looked around the house again.

 

“I’ve never had my own place before. Unless the nuthouse counts,” Dean commented casually as he looked around, picking up a tattered old book from the floor. He dusted off the cover. The Counte of Monte Cristo.  _ Ironic. _

 

“It’s yours, son.” Bobby gave him a sad smile before he nodded towards him and left. 

 

The moment he was gone Castiel lifted his hand and it started glowing. He held his palm towards the walls of the house and Dean could see how sigils and runes appeared in the woodwork. When Castiel was done, he looked at Dean with a smile. “No angel or demon can enter this house now, except for me. You’re safe here.”

 

Dean nodded and took a seat on the old, slightly tattered couch and sighed. “So, are you like… my guardian angel?”

 

Castiel sat next to him on the couch. “If you want to think that, you can. But I would prefer to think of it as being your friend. I don’t perceive this as work, or that it’s my mission to protect you. I’m not doing it because I was told to. It’s the right thing to do. And I want to be with you.”

 

He didn't know what to say to that. Dean had been told his entire life how worthless and pathetic he was. The idea that anyone would do anything for him without reason, or payment, seemed more insane than his diagnoses.

 

Turning to look up at Castiel, he couldn't stop himself from asking, “What makes me so special?”

 

“I don’t know how to answer that, Dean. I can only tell you that, over time, getting to know you and becoming your friend... it changed me. In a profound way. It was like you woke me up when I saw the world through your eyes for the first time. You are special to me.”

 

Dean nodded and hummed thoughtfully. He wondered if Castiel knew about their alternate selves, too. “Did you know we were a couple in another timeline? The other Dean told me. He said you had a lady vessel and you and I were having a kid.”

 

Castiel tilted his head in a way Dean now knew meant he was confused. "Maybe Jimmy hadn't been born as a man in an alternative timeline. Those things do happen." The angel scratched the back of his neck and looked away for a moment. "Are you disappointed that I have a male body?"

 

He shook his head. “Why would that matter? It’s not like we’re dating.” Dean chuckled nervously, not entirely sure why that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

Castiel gave him a long look. "Dating. That's something humans do when they–" The angel squinted his eyes at him. "Like each other in a romantic way. Correct?" 

 

“Yeah, I guess? Never really got to experience it, so I can’t say for sure,” he answered honestly. Dean had always wanted to experience it.  _ Love.  _ He accepted a long time ago that he just wasn’t lovable.

 

For a long moment Castiel was silent before he gave him a shy look. "Would you like to experience dating?"

 

Dean quirked his brow, not sure if he was reading into what Castiel was implying. “Are… What are you asking, Cas?”

 

Cas seemed insecure for a moment before he looked away and to the other side. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

 

For a moment, Dean wondered if maybe he really  _ was  _ nuts. Maybe he was still in the asylum and he’d just so completely cracked, that he was imagining he was sitting in a cabin, with an angel of the lord implying… “Do you like me?”

 

Castiel faced him again and nodded. His voice sounded out of breath. “Very much.”

 

“No, Cas. I mean… Do you want to – ” Dean didn’t know how to word it. Everything that popped into his head was either infantile or dumb. “Do you know what I’m saying when I ask if you like me?”

 

Castiel nodded slowly. "You mean in a romantic way." It wasn't a question. Just a statement that he had understood the question.

 

“Why?” Dean hadn’t meant for the question to sound like an accusation, but he just couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be in a romantic relationship with him. Let alone an actual angel.

 

Castiel looked away again. "I apologize. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I’ve never felt like this before in my life, but I think that's what this is. I don't know when it happened. I think it was right from the start, but I didn't realize it. Or maybe I did–" He shook his head. "I just can't imagine my world without you. I want to spent every second of my life with you and your happiness is the most important thing in my life." He looked up at Dean again. "Is that what it means – liking someone in a romantic way?" The last part was a question, as he appeared to be unsure that he had reached the right conclusion.

 

Dean felt frozen. He’d felt the exact same connection. He knew that his affection for the angel stemmed far deeper than anything he’d ever experienced. But he also had never imagined that those feelings could possibly be reciprocated. “You’re an angel. I’m just… nothing in comparison.”

 

"You're Dean." Castiel gave him a soft smile. "My Dean."

 

With a slightly shaky exhale, he was unable to stop a tear from escaping. Dean shook his head. “I don’t deserve this.”

 

Castiel reached out and rubbed the tear away from Dean’s face. “You deserve so much more than what I can offer, but if you let me – I would do anything to make you happy.”

 

Dean grasped Castiel’s hand and held it at his cheek. “Thank you.” He was overwhelmed in that moment. It was all too much, he still didn't feel worthy of it, but he would deal with that later. It'd been a long week and after everything, Dean was tired.

 

Castiel gave him a soft smile, but his expression seemed worried. His thumb rubbed gently over his cheek in an almost soothing manner. “You’re tired. Do you want to sleep for a while?”

 

With a nod, he sighed, moving to lay out on the couch, placing his head in Castiel’s lap. He didn’t ask, he didn’t think he needed to. Dean looked up, into incredibly intense blue eyes. They seemed sharper,  _ keener _ since Castiel took over Jimmy’s body. “So, can Jimmy see and hear everything?”

 

Castiel’s expression changed into an incredibly sad one. “Jimmy isn't with me anymore. He didn’t tell you, but he wanted to be united with his family in heaven again.” Castiel carded his fingers gently through Dean’s hair before he added, “It’s just me.”

 

That was surprising. It made sense, if he had the chance to be reunited with his brother and parents, he'd probably take it. Dean nodded. “I hope he's happy.”

 

Castiel got a far away look in his eyes and started to smile softly. “Very. He’s with his wife and daughter now.”

 

“Can I ask you something?” Dean started playing with the hem of his shirt, keeping his gaze on his hands.

 

“Of course. You can ask me anything,” Castiel answered quietly.

 

“Why is there evil? What was the point?” He'd always wondered why the horrific things he'd seen in his life existed in the first place.

 

Castiel leaned back against the couch and looked contemplative for a moment. After a while, he tilted his head and answered, “A lot of angels believe emotions are the reason. That Lucifer became corrupted by his envy of mankind, that he created demons to destroy and corrupt my father's creation.” Castiel shook his head. “But it's not about emotions. It was always about free will. What decision you make for your own life and how you influence the life of others.”

 

He buried his fingers in Dean’s hair, stroking through it softly. “I apologize. I don’t think I can adequately answer this question. In the end, I'm just a soldier.”

 

Dean turned away slightly, bracing his hand on Castiel’s knee beneath his cheek. “If I'm the righteous man, then why wait to protect me?”

 

“The knowledge about your existence and role in the apocalypse was a secret until an angel betrayed it to Hell. Remember the first time I tried to speak with you? Shortly before that I learned about your existence. I just knew I had to protect you.”

 

He looked up at Castiel then. “And now you're here.”

 

“Yes.” He smiled. “Finally.”

 

Dean smiled at that and curled into his side, his eyes fluttering closed as he murmured, “Finally.”

 

**…. :::: :::: ....**

 

While Dean was asleep, Castiel had used his grace to tidy up the house, making dust and dirt vanish until everything was clean again. Castiel felt unable to look away from Dean’s sleeping form, the innocent and vulnerable look on his face, the trust he could feel emanating from his friend, who was currently sleeping with his head rested on Castiel’s lap.

 

Castiel knew he could be content with staring at Dean like this for the rest of his life. His thoughts were disturbed when he heard Bobby’s car arriving again. He slid out from under Dean’s head, laying him down on the couch, careful to not wake him up.

 

He didn't stir, not even when Bobby let himself in, carrying different bags of supplies. The older man made eye contact with Castiel and barked, “Little help?”

 

Castiel looked at Dean for one last second – he was still sleeping, obviously needing it, before he nodded and helped Bobby stow away the things he bought, listening intently to his instructions about the generator and food. 

 

When the last can was placed in the pantry, Bobby looked around. “You cleaned up the place?”

 

“I want to make this as much of a home for Dean as possible.”

 

With a curt nod, he waved for Castiel to follow him into the kitchen. Without missing a beat, Bobby asked, “What's your deal? Why do I get the feeling that I'm missing something here? If this kid  _ is _ the righteous man and needs protection, I woulda thought Heaven would be powerful enough to… well, do a lot more than one angel and no plan.”

 

Castiel looked down at the floor, feeling ashamed of his brethren in Heaven. He shook his head slowly. “I rebelled for him. Heaven wanted Dean to die and start the apocalypse. The archangels are tired. They want paradise. I couldn't stand by and let them do it.”

 

Bobby scrutinized him for a moment, appearing to determine how truthful he was being. “So he's not only being hunted by demons, but angels, too?”

 

“That’s correct. That’s why I warded him and the house. As long as he doesn't pray, no one should find him.” Castiel gave Bobby a determined look. “And if they do, I will be here to protect him. I would die for Dean.”

 

“Why?” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It warmed Castiel's heart that this man was already so protective of Dean.

 

Castiel leaned against the table, his eyes cast down. "When I first heard about this, I tried to contact Dean. Told him to get to safety. At first I was just fulfilling my father's wish, to protect his creation. But over time I got to know Dean and I started to see things from his eyes. Dean – he's the most important person in my life. I just can't let anything happen to him."

 

Bobby looked at Castiel for a moment, before leaning against the counter. “Don't take advantage of him. He's a kid, a kid with a fucked up life. He's not an experiment for an angel who's basically going through a teenage rebellious phase.”

 

"Advantage… I don't understand." Castiel tilted his head. "I'm not 'experimenting' with Dean, I just want him to lead a normal, happy life. Like he should." He felt sadness fill his heart again with his own words. He knew Dean had anything but a normal and happy life so far. "I know I'm just one angel. But I promise you, I will do everything to try to make his life better. Even if it looks like I’m fighting against windmills."

 

“So this isn't some Romeo and Juliet bullshit because it's a way to stand out from the rest of your species?”

 

"Standing out from the rest of my species is the last thing I wanted to do. Being away from Heaven–" Castiel shook his head slowly. "It's hard for me. It comes with consequences to my power and I will never be able to go back. I'm hunted, I rebelled – Heaven will see me as being on the same level as Lucifer, and I will be killed should they find me."

 

Castiel squinted his eyes at Bobby. "But it's true that I have developed feelings for Dean."

 

“And you're willing to die for this kid? Even if he never reciprocates your feelings?” Bobby’s expression was stern, brow arched expectantly.

 

"I don't understand what reciprocity has to do with anything. If Dean doesn't feel the same about me, that won't change how I feel about him. I'm not going to let anything happen to him," Castiel stated with a determined voice. 

 

Bobby regarded him in silence for a few moments, before nodding hesitantly. He pulled out a couple of small devices and moved to hand them to Castiel. “I got you both a couple of burner phones. If you need anything, my number is programmed into both of them.”

 

Castiel had never used a phone before, but he was sure Dean could explain how they worked. He nodded at Bobby. “I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”

 

“No thanks necessary. You take care of him.” Bobby looked over at Dean’s still sleeping form before turning back to Castiel. “No one knows about this safe house. If anyone shows up saying I sent you, they're lying. There's a panic room underneath the boards in the living room. If you can't just… fly yourselves out, hide in there and shoot me a 911 text. Okay?”

 

"Alright," Castiel answered slowly, trying to remember those numbers.

 

Bobby clapped his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “There's a bed in the other room, he’ll probably be more comfortable there.” He let out a sigh and grabbed his keys. “Take care, flyboy.”

 

“Thank you.” Castiel nodded to Bobby. “Thank you for everything.”

 

Bobby waved him off and roughly mumbled something that sounded like ‘idjits' before he left the house, right after he gave Dean a long, last look, and Castiel another pointed one.

 

Castiel pondered if he should carry Dean to the bedroom, risking waking him up. He could use his grace to make him sleep deeper, but he was sure Dean wouldn’t like it if he used his grace on him like that.

 

Finally the argument that Dean didn’t look comfortable on the couch won. He carefully pushed his hands under Dean’s body and lifted him up into his arms.

 

Dean shifted slightly and his grip tightened as he mumbled a sleepy sounding, “Cas?”

 

Castiel pressed Dean more tightly to his body without thinking. “It's okay. Just sleep. I’m just getting you somewhere more comfortable.”

 

With a soft nod, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s neck, face slotting into the crook of his neck with a murmured, “‘Kay.”

 

Castiel couldn’t stop the smile playing around his lips as he closed his eyes for a moment. It felt good. It felt nice to have Dean so close, to feel his breath against his skin and the warmth of his body. 

 

He carefully carried Dean over to the bedroom, slowly laying him down on the bed.

 

As Dean drew away from him, he sleepily smiled up at him. “Thanks, Cas.”

 

Castiel returned the smile and nodded before he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t want to wake you up. Do you think you can fall asleep again?”

 

Dean nodded and ducked his head. “Will you stay, though?”

 

“Of course. I’ll watch over you.” Castiel put his hand over Dean’s, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of Dean’s hand.

 

He wasn’t sure if Dean had heard the last part. He had already fallen asleep again and Castiel found himself unable to look away from him. He had never felt like this before and even though their situation was less than ideal, he felt happy. He had yearned for this moment for such a long time now; seeing Dean, speaking with him, touching him. 

 

It was a selfish emotion. But one that Castiel liked to entertain sometimes, telling himself that he would sacrifice his own happiness in a heartbeat if it meant Dean could have a normal life. 

 

But as long as their situation was like this, he couldn't find it in him to feel guilty about his own happiness.

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

Dean had woken up the following morning. It had been years since he slept so well, without interruption. Maybe it was the comfort of having an angel watching over him. Maybe it was the comfort of not having to worry about a check from an orderly, or any of the terrifying situations he had found himself in as a foster kid.

 

Whatever the reason, he woke up more refreshed and awake than he had in a long time. Dean got up, noting that Cas was gone. A familiar rush of anxiety washed over him, as he got up and headed out to the living room. When he heard a clattering of pans in the kitchen, Dean was pleased to see the angel, fumbling around in an attempt to… cook.

 

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped and smiled. “What’re you doin’?”

 

Cas seemed to startle before he gave him a sheepish look. “I tried to make you breakfast.” He showed him the burned frying pan and the unidentified burned mass in it. It could have been eggs at some point, there were definitely some egg shells. Cas looked devastated.

 

Dean drew Cas into a hug and murmured a quiet, “Thanks,” into his shoulder. He chuckled looking at the ruined frying pan. “Want me to show you how?”

 

“Yes, please.” Cas rubbed the back of his own neck, looking embarrassed. “I imagined this going very differently.”

 

That made him smile. The fact that an angel wanted to cook him breakfast was touching in ways he never would have imagined. Dean grabbed the frying pan and tossed it into the sink, soaking it in soapy water. Hopefully it wasn’t irreparably damaged. “Let’s start with something easy. Scrambled eggs and toast. Sound good?”

 

Cas nodded and went to the fridge to get a few eggs, before he put them carefully on the kitchen counter. “How do we scramble them?”

 

Dean grabbed a bowl and cracked them into it, before taking a fork and whisking them. “There’s no wrong way to scramble an egg. This is how one of my foster moms did it.” Her name had been Leticia. She was one of the nicer ones. For the three weeks he lived with her family, she taught Dean how to cook and how to sew. After being kicked out of every previous home for talking about the monster that killed his parents, he’d decided to keep that secret to himself.

 

But he had trusted Leticia, especially considering how much kinder she had been to him than any of the others. When Dean finally told her about the monster, she had been kind and understanding. But her husband had overheard them and demanded they get rid of Dean before any real problems started. For the safety of their children.

 

Dean would never forget the sadness in her eyes when CPS came and picked him up the following day.

 

Cas tilted his head and gave him a fascinated look. “It looks so easy when you do it. I tried to separate the egg from the shell, but it fell in and it was impossible to get out.”

 

“Yeah, it can be.” Dean chuckled and grabbed another frying pan, coating it in a little butter before pouring the raw eggs into it. He turned it to a medium heat. “Wanna grab four slices of bread?”

 

Cas followed his instructions, his shoulder brushing Dean’s when he walked past him to get the bread. “Do you enjoy cooking?”

 

With a nod, Dean answered, “Yeah. All of my memories in a kitchen are the good ones, so I prefer to be in one. If I could have had a normal life, I would have liked to do it professionally.” He grabbed a spatula and started turning the eggs over in the frying pan. “Drop the bread in the toaster slots. I like mine dark, so on my two slices, turn the little knob to a five or six. How do you like yours?”

 

“I don’t know. I’ve never eaten anything before,” Cas answered slowly before he put the bread in the toaster. 

 

“Oh,” Dean murmured, moving to stand next to Cas. He smiled at him. “Let’s go medium for yours.” He leaned over and turned the other slot’s knob to a three. Tapping the handles down, Dean returned to the stovetop, waving Cas over. As the eggs started to firm up, he continued explaining, “So, how they are now is called runny. Some people like it like that, but I don’t. Slimy eggs are gross to me, so I’m just going to keep turning them over until they’re completely cooked.”

 

“Why are they ‘gross’ like that?” Cas asked, eyeing the eggs in the pan with a suspicious look.

 

“Have you ever touched a slug?” Dean countered with his own question.

 

Cas seemed to think about that for a moment. “No, I haven’t. Why would I do that?”

 

Dean chuckled. “If you had, I would have told you to imagine that texture being in your mouth. It’s just… I don’t really know how to explain it. But trust me, it’s gross.” As the eggs started to brown a little, he turned the stove off and left the pan on the dwindling heat. He smiled at Cas and when the angel’s toast popped up, he grabbed the butter from the fridge. “Do you know how to put butter on toast?”

 

Cas nodded and opened a drawer to get a knife before he spread way too much butter on one of the slices. He looked up at Dean with an insecure expression. “Like that?”

 

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You might want to go a little easy on the butter. Here…” Dean moved to guide Cas’s hand with the butter knife, scooping about a third of the amount he had just used out of the tub, and helping him gently spread it on the other piece of toast. “Like that.” He smiled, feeling a little lost in the blue of Cas’s eyes in that moment. 

 

Cas's movement with his hand stilled as he stared back at him. For a moment his gaze fell to Dean's lips before he swallowed and looked down at the toast again. "Thank you, Dean."

 

With a nod, Dean turned back to the eggs, flipping them a couple more times. “Will you grab a couple of plates?”

 

When Cas returned with the plates, Dean noticed that he didn't meet his eyes and purposefully looked away as he put them on the counter. "Is there anything else I can do?"

 

“Cas? Are you okay?” He was concerned about the angel. Maybe he was missing his family, his home. It was a lot to give up for one silly, little human. 

 

"Yes. Of course." That made Cas look up in confusion, but only for a moment before he looked away again.

 

Dean approached him, gently grasping his shoulder. “Then why aren’t you looking at me? Have I upset you?”

 

Cas shook his head before he took in a deep breath and looked up at Dean. "Bobby. He said that I shouldn't take advantage of you. But I can’t help where my thoughts go sometimes."

 

That confused him. How was Cas taking advantage of him? Trying to cook him breakfast? Dean shook his head and asked, “What are you talking about?”

 

Cas seemed to be embarrassed, but it was difficult to say for certain. "I don't know if I should say. I don't have much experience with this." He shook his head. "No experience, actually." 

 

Dean proceeded to plate the eggs, cutting their toast, and tossing the slices on their plates. He moved to the small kitchen table, something straight out of the fifties, and sat down. “Well, I can’t force you to talk if you don’t want to. I just hope, if I upset you, you’ll let me know?”

 

"Don't worry, Dean. You haven't." Cas shrugged and looked a little lost. "It's just... if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me. Bobby pointed out that you've been through enough and I shouldn't add any–" Cas tilted his head, obviously thinking about a fitting word. "Complications."

 

“Complications? What kind of complications?” While Dean was a little touched that Bobby seemed to care so much for his well being, it was a little off-putting that he felt the need to try and protect him from the only friend Dean had ever had. 

 

Cas's voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper as he answered, his gaze locked on the floor. "My feelings for you."

 

Dean shook his head, still not understanding how that was a bad thing. “What about them?”

 

Cas leaned against the kitchen counter. "He warned me not to experiment with you because he thought of me as a teenager going through a rebellious phase. At first I didn't understand what he was talking about. But now I do. I have selfish thoughts when I think about you. And I'm unsure if that is a good thing anymore."

 

_ That  _ was interesting. Dean was curious about the selfish thoughts. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Cas having feelings for him. He was such a fuck up, and Cas was… Cas was  _ perfect.  _ Dean would never deserve him. The feelings were definitely reciprocated, because how couldn’t he have fallen in love with the creature that saved him in every way possible? Dean sighed and gently placed his hand over Cas’s. “Well, maybe it’s just a phase? Am I the first human you’ve had prolonged contact with?”

 

"You're not the first human I've had contact with and I'm sure that my feelings for you aren't just a phase." Cas gave him a devastated look. "So, Bobby was right. You don't believe in the sincerity of my feelings either." 

 

“That’s not what I said, Cas.” Dean grasped his hand and held it. “I was just wondering. I don’t understand  _ why  _ you would develop feelings for a fuck up like me. But if you say the feelings are real, then I believe you.”

 

Cas intertwined their fingers, pulling Dean closer. "Is this something people usually know? Why they fall in love with someone?"

 

“You're in love with me?” He couldn't stop himself from asking, or keep the utter surprise out of his tone. Having feelings was one thing, but someone falling in love with Dean Winchester? That was crazy, and Dean  _ knew  _ crazy.

 

"Yes." Cas looked up at him with a pained expression. "And I just wanted to let you know that I don't expect anything from you. I already told Bobby, because he was afraid I would just leave you when this wouldn't work out in my favor." Cas sighed deeply. "I'm staying with you and I can keep my feelings to myself if they make you uncomfortable."

 

“Nothing you do could make me uncomfortable, Cas,” he answered honestly. “You're the only real friend I've ever had. And I'm not saying never, but… I need time. I need time to be someone you deserve.” Dean looked down then, feeling particularly vulnerable in that moment.

 

Cas tentatively wrapped his arms around him, like Dean had done before, and pulled him closer, whispering against his shoulder, "I would wait for you until the end of time."

 

Dean chuckled, trying to not feel overwhelmed by the emotions threatening to strangle the breath out of him. He drew back and cupped the side of Cas’s face with his left hand. “I'll try to not make you wait that long.”

 

Cas leaned into the touch and closed his eyes for a moment before he gave him a soft smile. "Thank you, Dean."

 

“Thank  _ you.  _ You saved me.” He smiled and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the angel’s cheek. 

 

Cas turned his face, his nose bumped gently against Dean's cheek. Dean could hear that Cas's breathing had become more labored. "I think it's more like the other way around, Dean."

 

Like a moth to a flame, the intensity of an unending sky blue gaze had Dean mesmerized. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, so without another thought, Dean closed the distance between them. A chaste, soft pressing of their lips. A kiss. A real, honest to god,  _ kiss.  _ He drew back, terrified that he might have royally fucked up in that moment. Dean searched Cas’s face for signs of anger, or hurt. He found none.

 

Instead Cas smiled at him. "That felt nice," he breathed out quietly.

 

That was the understatement of the century. It felt more than nice. It was game changing. Life changing. Dean looked at him for a moment, unsure how forthcoming he should be, but considering how honest the angel had been… “You get that the reason I’m scared has nothing and everything to do with my feelings for you, right?”

 

Cas shook his head. "Why are you afraid of this, Dean?"

 

“I’m a broken, worthless, fuck up. Well, I guess not  _ entirely  _ worthless. The one thing I’m good for is being the key to starting the apocalypse. I can’t even begin to understand why you fell for me. And no matter how I feel about you, I don’t know if I could ever feel like I deserve your love.” Dean shook his head sadly, wiping an errant tear away as he focused on his untouched food.

 

“You don’t think you deserve to be saved,” Cas mumbled quietly after a moment.

 

Dean shook his head. “It’s just… I don’t know. People out there, stronger, better people who deserve it more than I do, and they don’t. They die. They never get a chance to live out their lives. Like my parents.” 

 

Cas looked shocked for a moment before he slowly shook his head. "I don't know why you think so low of yourself, or why you think you aren't worth the same as other people. You're exceptionally strong, Dean. Kind hearted and selfless. A lesser man couldn't have gone through the life you have led and still possessed the purest soul I have ever seen. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes for just a moment. Just so you can see how special you are."

 

Cas pulled him closer again, for a moment Dean got lost in his sincere blue eyes again. "You may not see it at the moment, but one day I hope you realize that you deserve something good in your life – you deserve so much more."

 

Dean wanted to believe that, he desperately did. But years of being an unwanted orphan, in and out of psyche facilities, had taken its toll on his self worth. He sighed and held Cas’s hand again. “I… I don’t know if I’ll ever see it, Cas.”

 

“Can you, at least for now, accept that I don’t perceive you like you do?” Cas asked softly, pulling up Dean’s hand to kiss the back of it.

 

At that, Dean smiled. He nodded and said, “Okay.”

 

Cas glanced shyly at him. “Would you mind... kissing me again?”

 

Cupping the angel’s face, Dean leaned in and kissed him again. A soft, gentle kiss. He was too scared to try and deepen it. Because, more than any of his other fears, his insecurities, his overall negative emotions in regards to finding out an angel of the lord was in love with him… Dean was utterly terrified that none of this was real. That he was still locked up in that asylum, having an insanely vivid hallucination. And if he came around, if he woke up and realized none of it was real… It would kill him.

 

Cas pressed Dean against the table behind him, carding his fingers through Dean's hair as he captured Dean's upper lip in a soft kiss. He leaned his forehead against Dean's after that, his breathing hitched before he looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I–I shouldn't have asked. I don't want to overstep–"

 

“Stop,” he said, tone gentle. He wasn't telling the angel to stop what he was doing, he was telling him to just stop. This relationship would go nowhere if they both freaked out all of the time.

 

Dean drew back slightly, grasping Cas’s arm to keep him there. “I like kissing you, Cas,” he reassured.

 

“I like it, too.” Cas looked down before he confessed, “Maybe a bit too much. It’s hard to stop.” 

 

Dean ducked his head and smiled sheepishly. “I don’t have much experience.”

 

Cas returned the smile before he cupped the side of Dean's face. "Me neither. You’re the first person that kissed me."

 

He couldn’t help but stare at Cas in a sort of amazement. He pressed his cheek into Cas’s hand and smiled. “What are we doin’, Cas?”

 

Cas tilted his head. "Standing in the kitchen and talking?"

 

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I meant… You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ve spent my whole fucking life trying to not get attached to people, because I’m just… Whatever. Apparently, I’m being hunted and that life could end at any moment. And it  _ will  _ end, so why shouldn’t we try to have a little slice of happiness before the lights go out?” It was weird, maybe it had been the strength he gained from kissing an angel, maybe it was the reality of his situation, but in the span of one meal Dean had changed his tune. Why shouldn’t they give this a shot?

 

"The Roman poet Horace called this, 'carpe diem'. Seize the day," Cas added with a smile before he pulled him closer again. "But before you seize anything, you should eat."

 

Looking down at the cold eggs and soggy toast, he turned back to Cas and asked, “Can we go somewhere? You said you could take me anywhere. Or is that not safe?”

 

"You're warded. As long as you don't summon a demon or pray to an angel, no one can find you. Where do you want to go?"

 

Dean thought for a moment. They could go anywhere in the world? He’d always wanted to go somewhere exciting, somewhere foreign. With a soft smile, he asked, “Can we go to Morocco?”

 

The angel smiled and nodded. “Marrakesh?”

 

“Wherever. I've never been outside of Kansas until now.” Dean smiled at Cas, excitement starting to tremor through him. He'd always wanted to travel. Maybe it stemmed from years of being part of a system that doesn't care about older kids, moving from place to place. There had been that itch, and he wouldn't be surprised if it stemmed from those experiences. 

 

Cas gave him a soft smile before he took his hand and intertwined their fingers. A disorientated few seconds later, heat surrounded him. Dean was flooded by an onslaught of different exotic smells and the noise of a busy market filled with people, chatting and shouting in a melodic sounding language. He was in the middle of a spice market in a Morrocco.

 

Cas smiled at him. "Welcome to Marrakesh, Dean."

 

Man, if this all  _ was  _ just a figment of his imagination, Dean hoped he’d never become lucid. Dean looked around, soaking in all of the sights and smells of the open market. Before he could stop himself, he yanked Cas into a fierce hug, clinging to his coat as he pressed his face in the crook of the angel’s neck. “Thanks, Cas,” he whispered.

 

Cas pulled him tighter for a moment before he let him go again to look at him with a soft smile. "It's my pleasure. I'll take you anywhere you want."

 

Dean couldn’t help but return the smile. He nodded and yanked Cas forward by the sleeve of his coat to go start exploring.

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

Two weeks had gone by and Cas and Dean had fallen into a daily routine that felt rather comforting. He had never been on Earth for such a long period of time and, although it was a new and frightening experience, the time he spent with Dean calmed him, settled his nervousness. 

 

He had a mission here. He would protect Dean and he wanted to make him happy. Making Dean happy filled his heart with pleasure, especially when he started to teach himself to cook by watching cooking shows on television. Two days ago he had successfully made a pie and was rewarded with so much happiness radiating from Dean, that even the memory of it made his heart flutter.

 

They hadn't kissed again and though Cas longed to feel his lips again, he was patient. He knew Dean needed time to adapt to his new situation. And he could wait.

 

He tried to focus again on what Jamie Oliver said about chicken kiev, but his gaze kept wandering to Dean, who sat at the table, staring at a laptop with a concentrated look on his face.

 

He didn't know what Dean was doing, but he also didn't want to ask, not wanting to disturb his concentration. He looked back at the TV, but all he could think about were memories of their tour around the world. How Dean's eyes glinted in the sunlight when they were in the alps surrounded by snow in summer. Or how captivating his expression was when Dean had been overwhelmed by the sight of dolphins swimming around them on a remote little island in the middle of the Pacific ocean. Seeing the world through Dean’s eyes, the wonder and awe, just strengthened his resolve to protect all of this. Just for Dean. So Cas would never stop seeing those expressions of joy on Dean’s beautiful face.

 

When he turned to look at Dean again he met his green eyes. Dean grinned at him, obviously his staring hadn’t gone unnoticed. Cas glanced away shyly. “I apologize. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

 

“You’re not disturbing me.” Dean quirked his brow. “You ever watch cartoons or anything fun?”

 

Cas shook his head. “The only other thing I watched other than cooking shows is the ISS channel.”

 

That was met with a soft chuckle. “You should give it a try.” Dean returned his attention to the laptop, clicking on the mouse in a series of quick successions. His tongue darted out in his concentration.

 

“Do you have a recommendation?” Cas asked as he flipped through the TV signals in his mind.

 

Dean looked up again. “Any channels airing classic looney tunes?”

 

“Australia. Cartoon Network,” he answered automatically when he found the right wavelength after a few seconds and switched it on their TV. It showed a weird looking bird being chased by a very hungry looking coyote. He tilted his head, feeling already sad for the coyote, hoping he would get the bird, who was starting to taunt the other animal viciously.

 

He scratched his chin when the coyote painted a tunnel at a rock, hoping the bird would crash into it. It seemed to be a solid plan, but to his surprise the bird just ran through the tunnel even though it was painted on. When the coyote wanted to follow, he crashed into the rock and fell to the ground. A second after that, a train came out of the painted tunnel and ran over the coyote. 

 

Cas shot Dean a questioning look. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

 

Dean’s lips quirked up in an amused expression. “What?”

 

“There seems to be different rules for the coyote and the bird.” He squinted his eyes at the television. “Like now. The bird is running over the air and it doesn’t fall. But the coyote falls when he does the same. It’s because... he looked down, right?”

 

“Exactly.” Dean cast a look at the screen of his laptop and moved to sit next to Cas on the couch. “Cartoons have their own laws and rules. Like that one. You can stay suspended in midair until you look down.”

 

“It’s unfair that the coyote seems to always have a disadvantage. How can the bird run through a tunnel he painted on a rock and he himself can’t enter it? It’s pretty cruel. Will he at least get the bird in the end?”

 

Dean shook his head. “Nope. Because the coyote is the bad guy. We’re supposed to root for the roadrunner. In cartoon land, anything that helps the protagonists does the exact opposite for the antagonists. If a character sets up a bomb to go off and the fuse stops, leaving the good guy unharmed, the bad guy will look at it and boom!” He chuckled.

 

“How do you know the coyote is the ‘bad guy’?” Cas asked, feeling even more confused.

 

“I, uh…” Dean’s eyes widened. “You know I don’t know. It’s implied, but it’s never been stated outright that he’s the bad guy.” He sat back against the couch and shook his head. “Fuck. What if we’ve all been misjudging Wile E. Coyote all these years?”

 

“He is only hungry. He actually looks like he’s starving.” Cas noticed Dean’s thoughtful look. “He’s just doing what’s in his nature. That doesn’t make him bad.”

 

“You're right.” Dean chuckled, tone soft and surprised as he said, “Damn. Way to fuck with my interpretation of the world.”

 

Cas scratched the back of his neck, feeling sheepish. “I’m sorry. Maybe there is another show where animals don’t starve for amusement.”

 

Dean laughed and leaned in close, resting his head on Cas’s shoulder. “Don't be sorry. I love the way you look at the world.”

 

Cas smiled and leaned into Dean's warmth, his heart singing with joy over the compliment and being close. He switched back to the ISS channel, where they showed the world from the International Space Station. Soft music was playing in the background. "It's a beautiful world," he whispered. "But I have to confess that since I’ve known you, it's gotten even more stunning and beautiful."

 

“Cas,” he whined, sounding as though he was embarrassed. Dean had slowly stopped arguing with him every time he paid him a compliment. Cas couldn't help but feel proud of how far the young man had come in slowly seeing his worth and value.

 

He wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulder and gave him a playful smile. “What?”

 

“Your compliments.” It was all he said, ducking his head as he leaned in closer to Cas.

 

“Too forward?” Cas asked after a moment. It was a fine line between showing Dean how important he was to Cas and making him uncomfortable.

 

Dean drew back and smiled. “I’m still getting used to them.”

 

"But it's getting better?" he asked, hearing his own insecurity in his voice. "I could be mistaken, but you seem to have gotten better over the last few days. You smile more often."

 

“How can I not? You’ve taken me to places I’ve only ever dreamed of. I’m no longer locked up in a nuthouse. And on top of it, an angel keeps telling me my worth. It’s a lot to take in, but I think I’m finally starting to believe it.” Dean ducked his head, cheeks reddened from apparent embarrassment.

 

Cas could feel his smile widen. He felt unbelievably happy that his efforts weren't in vain and that he could make Dean feel better. "I'm glad," he stated before he leaned over and kissed Dean's forehead. When he leaned back, he tilted his head. "So, what were you working on–on your machine?"

 

Dean’s eyes lit up as he answered in an excited tone, “I think I’m on the right track to finding my baby brother. Bobby got me in touch with a hacker who’s working on getting into the Kansas CPS site to find what happened to him.”

 

Cas couldn't help but smile at the way Dean's eyes shone with happiness as he talked about his brother. "If you find him, I can bring you to your brother." He looked away, thoughtful for a moment. "When was the last time you saw him?"

 

The smile faltered then, as Dean shook his head. “They took him away the day after… you know…”

 

Cas nodded and grabbed Dean’s hand in his. “Do you think he knows about you?”

 

Dean shrugged. “I have no idea. I mean, he was just a baby when everything happened. Shit… He probably has no idea I exist.”

 

Cas nodded again. It was a difficult situation. "If you were in his place, wouldn't you want to know that you have a brother?"

 

“Maybe?” Dean sighed and looked at Cas, expression hesitant. “What if he  _ does  _ know I exist and wants nothing to do with me?”

 

“Why wouldn't he want something to do with you?" Cas asked with a head tilt. It didn't make any sense.

 

“Because I never tried to keep us together.” Dean looked down then, body language indicative of guilt.

 

"I'm sure your brother grew up to be an intelligent, good man. He probably knows it wasn't your choice to make." He squeezed Dean’s hand. “But you don’t have to decide anything yet. If we find him, I can take you to him and you can see for yourself what his life looks like. You can decide then if you are going to talk to him or not.”

 

Dean nodded and leaned his head against Cas’s shoulder again. “You’re the best, Cas.”

 

"I'm glad I can help." Cas wrapped his arms around him and pressed his face against Dean's hair, planting a soft kiss to top of his head. "Are you hungry?" he asked after letting himself enjoy the closeness for a moment.

 

“I could eat,” Dean said, giving him a shy smile.

 

"I wanted to try something new today. I hope I can replicate it without a mistake. It's a french dish – coq au vin." He tilted his head. “It looked like something you would enjoy.”

 

Dean regarded him for a moment, his expression was mildly perplexed yet entirely affectionate. “Cas? Will you, uh… will you kiss me again?”

 

Cas felt his vessel’s heart skip a beat – not that he thought of this human body as a vessel anymore. It was his now, but sometimes it was still a weird concept to have one, to feel so much and so intensely. “Yes, whenever you want,” he murmured, his voice dropping a few octaves. Without hesitation he leaned over and captured Dean's lips in a tender kiss. 

 

His mind was empty and quiet as soon as his lips met Dean’s. Like all the other times, it simultaneously anchored him down to Earth while also making him feel like he was flying. It was incredibly hard to stop. He experimentally slid his tongue over Dean’s upper lip, trying to taste him with his human senses. An instinctive reaction that he wanted to give in to. 

 

Dean parted his lips and allowed him in, tongue tapping in a tentative rhythm against Cas’s own. He let out a soft groan and gripped onto Cas’s coat sleeves, as though he would float away from euphoria if he didn’t. Dean appeared to grow braver as he pressed closer, licking the seam of Cas’s lips before he deepened the kiss.

 

Cas had never felt anything like it before and now he finally understood why angels had chosen to fall for this. It was overwhelming. Nothing he had ever felt came close to this; the closeness, intimacy, the desperation and tingly sensation that flooded his body, burned over his skin. He felt need and want, emotions that were alien to an angel, but still he recognized them at his most primal level. 

 

He tried to inhale everything, the taste, the feeling of Dean in his arms, burning it into his mind so he would never forget. He moaned against Dean’s lips and pushed him against the backrest of the couch. 

 

With a soft moan, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck as he pulled the man fully over himself. Lips never breaking contact, Dean’s fingers gripped Cas’s hair as he tried to get even closer, which should have been impossible.

 

It seemed like Dean was feeling the same urgency as he did, the need to melt into their connection, becoming one. His body was reacting instinctively and of its own accord, answering an urge by pressing closer. "Dean..." He had never heard his voice sound so desperate before. Like he was asking for something, but wasn't sure what he was asking for.

 

When Dean’s hardened erection was pressed into his hip, he suddenly realized what his body’s innate longing was. Arousal. Desire. Dean let out a breathy moan when he drew back. “Cas…”

 

Cas tried to calm his breathing, which became more erratic as he looked at Dean. Bobby's words came to his mind again and he wasn't an expert on human interaction, so he had to make sure. "Dean. I want to touch you. Is that okay?"

 

Dean nodded, eyes hooded and pupils dilated in lust. “Yeah,” he breathed out, voice a little shaky.

 

Cas let his palms slide down to the hem of Dean's loose t-shirt before he carefully pushed the fabric higher, revealing Dean's stomach. His eyes lingered on the skin, his thumb grazing it as he pushed the shirt higher. Dean held his arms up so it was easier to pull it off of him. 

 

It was hard to decide where to touch him first. He wanted to feel every inch of his skin under his fingertips. Cas rested his hands on Dean's shoulders, tenderly tracing the lines of his muscles with the flat of his palms. He licked over his suddenly too dry lips when his fingers reached Dean’s chest, his thumb grazing one of Dean’s nipples. It elicited a quiet, breathy gasp from Dean.

 

He followed the line of the man’s sternum with his fingers, letting them draw patterns on their trek down Dean's flat stomach, the muscles twitching under his fingertips. before he reached Dean's pants. He looked up at Dean with a questioning gaze.

 

Dean nodded again. He carefully placed his hands on Cas’s and guided him lower.

 

Cas's breathing hitched when he felt the bulge under his palm. He gently rubbed over it, biting his lower lip as he watched Dean. How he enjoyed the pleasure this brought him. His other hand quickly opened the button and zipper on Dean's jeans before he carefully used both hands to pull them down. Dean used his feet to pull them the rest of the way off.

 

Dean wore black boxer briefs underneath. The fabric was soft and tented and Cas couldn't stop himself from touching Dean's erection again over the fabric. Their was a wet spot and Cas felt his breathing hitch again as he grabbed the hem and freed him from his last article of clothing.

 

He couldn't stop staring. Dean was so beautiful, soft skin over a strong body, dusted in freckles and flushed with need and welcoming warmth. Cas licked over his lips again before he started to leave kisses on Dean's chest and stomach.

 

“Cas…” Dean moaned his name like a prayer, arching up against him. He tugged at Cas’s shirt collar. “I wanna feel your skin.” 

 

Cas looked down at himself, for the first time realizing that he was still wearing his own clothes. He quickly opened the tie and threw it on the ground, his shirt and pants together with his underwear were thrown into a pile off to the side. He realized then that he could have used his grace to undress faster, but he had simply forgotten. Looking at Dean was incredibly distracting.

 

He slid over him, wanting to feel him exactly like Dean had suggested. Cas moaned as he could feel all of Dean pressed against him. Their erections rubbed against each other and Cas instinctively pressed his hips against Dean before he kissed him again. He leaned his forehead against Dean's, breathing hard. "What do you want me to do?"

 

“Anything… everything,” he said, voice wavering with his desire. Dean bucked up against him, spurring them both into moaning outright. 

 

Cas didn’t have any experience with sexual intercourse and he swore to himself he would research what this "everything" entailed, but right now he knew what to do. He could feel every nerve ending in Dean burning as though on fire, feeling the same rush course through his own body. He rocked their erections together as he lost himself against Dean's lips. His fingers slipping up to Dean's forehead to touch him, he opened a connection to his mind and body. 

 

He pushed his desire, his need, his lust – everything he was feeling in that moment through his grace and into Dean. That elicited the softest, most urgent sounding moans from Dean’s lips. He kept arching up, eyes screwed shut as he gripped Cas’s arms for purchase.

 

“Fuck… Fuck, Cas!” Dean’s eyes opened, widened in shock as he started to tremble. “I’m gonna… fuck…” As he bucked up again, Cas used his grace to caress Dean from the inside out, pushing his own aroused tremors through Dean’s body. After a staggered and broken gasp, Dean came with Cas’s name on his lips.

 

He could feel the hot waves of pleasure that ran through Dean's body and it pushed him over that ledge, too. Cas let out a surprised gasp because he had not expected it to feel so mind blowing, eradicating every thought, forcing every cell in his body to roar in pleasure as he extended his invisible wings into the room.

 

Cas was breathing heavily as he stared at Dean with wide eyes, whispering his name in awe. "I–I did not expect that."

 

Dean smiled. “Did you just make us come with your mind?” His question sounded just as awed as he felt.

 

"I doubt my mind was of much use a few minutes ago, but I used my grace to make you feel what I felt."  He gave him an insecure smile. "Was that wrong?"

 

“I have no idea, but considering we both came, I’m gonna go with no.” Dean chuckled and wrapped his arms around Cas, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

 

Cas hummed happily and rubbed his nose against Dean's cheek playfully. "I should research sexual intercourse. I want to make you happy." He left a few kisses along Dean's throat. "I want you to experience everything."

 

Dean nodded and regarded Cas seriously for a moment, before he murmured, “I’m in love with you, Cas.”

 

For a moment Cas wondered if his body's heart had stopped and he would need to use his grace to start it again. He felt his chin go slack when a gasp fell from his lips. Lips that curved into a smile as unending happiness settled in his heart. "And I love you, Dean."

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

For the first time in years, Dean felt truly and actually free. It was still a little surreal, knowing that he was the key to the apocalypse and an angel of the lord made it his own personal mission to protect him. Falling in love with said angel somewhere along the way. Dean chuckled to himself as he listened to Cas making noise in the kitchen, trying to cook whatever dish he’d learned about that day.

 

Dean was sitting at the little desk in front of his laptop. It had been a few days and he still hadn’t heard anything from Charlie. She had told him if she didn’t get him the info within a week, that it was an unbreakable database. He’d made peace with the idea of possibly never finding his brother.

 

Considering everything he’d experienced in his life, he just hoped that Sam had a good life, that he was happy. Dean would be more than happy to have been the bearer of all of the shit he had to deal with, as long as his brother never had to suffer. Maybe he was adopted by a nice family, raised as one of their own. Maybe he was married? Maybe he had his own kids? 

 

He couldn’t help but smile at that thought. Even though that wasn’t something he’d be able to have, Dean couldn’t help but be incredibly content. Cas was an amazing angel and an even better boyfriend. It made him happy knowing that in, at least, two timelines, he and Castiel were happy and in love. Maybe that was how their lives were in all of their timelines.

 

When the notification he had an email alerted Dean on his laptop, he almost gasped at what it was. 

 

An email from Charlie. She found Sam. She  _ found  _ Sam. Dean started reading through the email, she had provided a brief history of what had happened to him and where he was right now. 

 

Apparently, he had been adopted, and because those records were all kinds of sealed, that had been what took her so long to find him. He had been adopted by a nice couple, a teacher and his wife, a nurse. They had lived in Kansas until Sam was five, then moved to California. He grew up in Modesto, graduated as the class valedictorian, and got a full ride into Stanford. 

 

Dean let out a relieved sigh. It seemed like Sammy had one hell of an amazing life. He leaned over the side of the desk and called out, “Cas? How do you feel about going to California?” 

 

**The End.**


End file.
